How to pull a vampire slayer
by netgirly2k
Summary: How to pull a vampire slayer using only a squid demon and a boat load of champagne


Vampire slayer physiology differs from normal human physiology in a number of significant ways. Slayers have increased strength and speed, faster reflexes and they also have absolutely no tolerance for alcohol. Perhaps that goes someway to explaining why upon waking up in a strange hotel room that looked like a tornado had hit it Buffy Summers sat bolt upright and cried out, "Alien sex pollen!"

"Wha-" Faith peeled her face off the pillow and stared at Buffy, one eye still shut.

It was then that Buffy became aware of three things in quick succession. One, Faith was naked; two, she was naked; and three, they were naked in the same queen sized bed. At that she let out a 'meeep' sound, jumped to her feet and snatched up the sheet. Her foot caught on an empty champagne bottle (one of several strewn about the room) and only her slayer reflexes saved her from ending up on her ass. She wrapped the sheet around and around herself until she ran out of sheet, and looked at Faith who was lying on her stomach on the mattress, still naked.

"Mornin'" Faith mumbled, stretching and yawning. Buffy searched for somewhere fairly neutral to look, settling on a spot on Faith's spine, the dip just above the curve of her buttocks. "Don't remember what happened last night, do you?"

Buffy, whose higher brain functions had been temporarily lost in a fog of nudity, suddenly realised that she had no memory of how she and Faith had come to be in this rather fancy hotel room. Then Faith rolled onto her side and Buffy's cognitive functions went walkabout again.

"Can't you at least try to cover up."

Faith ran her hands over the bare mattress, "you've got the sheet, B."

Buffy momentarily considered giving the sheet to Faith, looked around and was unable to easily locate any of her clothes, and decided against it. "Put some clothes on then."

Faith languidly got up and went in search of clothes. Finding them wasn't hard, it was locating some that were intact and not currently hanging from the ceiling fixtures that was the difficult bit. God, did Faith always...shimmy so much when she walked?

"Do you have to be such an exhibitionist, Faith?" Buffy complained, as Faith wriggled, which was really the only word for it, into a pair of jeans.

"Yeah," Faith answered, "and if it bothered you that much you wouldn't still be looking."

Buffy turned around and found herself facing a mirror in which she watched Faith retrieve a bra from the top of a lamp. She decided that perving on Faith sneakily was actually slightly creepier than the fact that she was perving on Faith at all and turned around.

Faith was trying on a pale blue bra that didn't remotely fit. She tossed it towards Buffy, "I think this is yours."

Buffy reached out to catch it. It was with another yelp and those remarkable reflexes that she managed to catch the sheet before it fell.

Faith gave up looking for her own bra, and sat, cross legged and topless on the unmade bed. She squirmed uncomfortably and produced from underneath her legs an empty miniature from the mini-bar.

Buffy, still wrapped tightly in the sheet and gripping her warm bra, sat opposite Faith. "Er-" she said, quite eloquently she thought given the circumstances and the amount of brain power that was being devoted to finding things to look at that weren't Faith's dark nipples.

"I remember Venice, I remember killing that squid demon. I remember champagne..." Faith trailed off, frowning.

"I remember checking in here to celebrate. Oh, God, I've just had a terrible thought..." A terrible thought had indeed penetrated some part of Buffy's mind that wasn't occupied repeating the mantra 'Don't look at Faith's breasts' over and over again.

After a quick phone call to verify that Giles and the watchers council were indeed paying for the hotel room they were back trying to piece together the events of last night. 

"Right, so we came here and drank some more champagne, and then-"

"We ran out of champagne," Faith said, picking up the thread of events.

"And then we opened the mini-bar." Buffy winced at the memory of mixing liquor with, well, more liquor while Faith had... "You were bouncing on the bed."

"Was I?" Faith didn't sound remotely surprised to hear that she'd been bouncing on the very expensive hotel bed like a sugared up five year old. In fact she gave a couple of experimental bounces where she was sitting. Buffy made a slight attempt to avert her eyes, but it was sort of...mesmerising. 

"Yeah, and I think were stripping off your clothes to celebrate."

Faith shrugged, "they were covered in squid ink. What's your excuse?"

Buffy thought, she remembered hands ghosting over skin, fingernails scratching over hips as pants were tugged down, breasts pushed up against hers while fingers groped for the catch of her bra. "You took my clothes off too. You know, to celebrate."

"We should kill giant squid demons in Venice more often."

"And then," and then must have been the point where the champagne and miscellaneous contents of the mini-bar kicked in because try though she might Buffy couldn't even remember snippets of anything after that. She couldn't decide what was more depressing; that she might have drunkenly slept with Faith, or that she might have drunkenly slept with Faith and forgotten about it.

"We didn't screw then?" Faith asked.

"Um, no, I don't think so. Sorry," Buffy wasn't sure why she apologised but for some reason she felt the need to.

"That's a shame."

"Yes," Buffy agreed immediately, "um, why?"

"Oh c'mon, killer demon, big battle, exotic city, huge hotel room, big bed, barn-loads of sauce. You gotta have sex."

"Yeah, I suppose it is kind of a waste."

Faith seized the sheet with reflexes like a cat. "Knew you'd agree eventually," she threw the sheet across the room and crawled across the space between them. Buffy let Faith push her back onto the bed, her hands which had been previously clutching the sheet to her found themselves very full again.

Faith's denim clad knee slid between Buffy's thigh and she arched up. Okay, it was a cliché. The location and the drinking and the stripping, but sometimes you just had to say what the hell.


End file.
